


the silent air is comfort

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Disturbing Themes, Heaven, Hell, Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death remembers when he was a harbourer and not a guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the silent air is comfort

**Author's Note:**

> So...I wrote this out of boredom and was going to make a muti-chapter fic but couldn't decide so.  
> Ya got this.....enjoy

A single man cannot imagine it. Blackness and silence are the hopes they cling to as to restrain their brains from reaching above their minds. The body is made to survive; the soul is made to live. Neither is important, or possible, when everything comes to nothing.

No colour or wistful peace awaits he who does not exist.

Death is a graceful, slow, peaceful creature.  Comfort for a man, a being which would carry them through to the rest of ages is a much needed ideal for a single man.

Most would say they are afraid of death; they are not. They are afraid of what awaits after.

Heaven and Hell are an idealistic memory from a time long past, when the apes started to think and imagine. A higher power observing would agree that this was when things started to crumble.

The depths of the pit and altitude of the holy place were supposed to be kept untarnished. The demons and devils stayed in their place, as did the angels and God.

But when man began to think, when man began to fear. Then the father had to open the unspoiled realms and bring shelter to the fallen.

Death remembers when he was not needed, though that was before the times of men.

He is old, very old. Perhaps even older than God himself, and certainly he will continue as the great one’s shining skin has peeled away.

Death remembers when he was a harbourer and not a guide.

He remembers when mankind was afraid.


End file.
